


Dishes

by LadyDeBrief



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Kitchen Sex, Pepperony - Freeform, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexy Times, Slice of Life, Then Pepper Blows His Mind, Tony Seduces People Without Even Trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 09:05:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDeBrief/pseuds/LadyDeBrief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pepper decides she wants to wash the dishes, but Tony proves to be irresistible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dishes

“Okay,” Tony says, narrowing his eyes and leaning back like the kitchen has pressed itself into his personal space, “what's going on here? What are you doing?”

Pepper smiles to herself and glances back over her shoulder, away from the dishes she's stacking up next to the sink filling with hot, soapy water.

Tony's eyes drop to the sink and his head twitches forward even though the rest of him is still trying to keep its distance. “Is the sink clogged? Do I need to fix that?”

This earns him a roll of Pepper's eyes. “No, Tony, the sink is not clogged. I used the stopper.”

He flicks his gaze up to hers and he says, “Why would you want to stop up the sink? Water is supposed to drain out of the drain. That's why it's called a drain. Because it drains. You're messing with the key function here.”

Pepper huffs and wonders if he's being deliberately obtuse. She wouldn't put it past him, but the furrow in his brow is genuine as far as she can tell. She decides to give him the benefit of the doubt, for now. “We need the sink to be full of water so we can wash the dishes.”

Tony stares at her. “But we have a dishwasher.”

“Tonight we're washing them by hand.” Pepper turns off the water, dipping her hand in briefly to check it's the right temperature before shaking off the suds and waving Tony forward. “Come on.”

Tony shoots a dubious look at the stack of dishes and the sink full of water and Pepper sees the moment he decides to risk it. She has to stifle a grin when he edges up beside her, wary.

“They're not going to attack, Tony,” she says and despite her best efforts, her amusement leaks out in her tone.

“Ha ha,” Tony says, eyes fixed on the sink. He waves a hand at the set up. “So...what am I doing?”

Pepper picks up a scrubber sponge and tucks it into Tony's palm, enjoying the way he grimaces. “It's easy,” she tells him and takes the topmost dish off the stack, pulling Tony up close behind her and then guiding his scrubber-holding hand to the plate. “Use this to get all the food off, rinse, and place it over here in the drying rack.”

Tony lets her work his hand around over the plate, stepping closer until she's trapped between him and the countertop, the heat of his body pressed from the back of her knee all the way to her shoulder, his hipbone pressing into the dip of her waist. Tony tips his head to the side and Pepper can feel the tiny hairs on her neck stand up as he breathes out, tracing a warm, damp path from just below her ear to the crook of her shoulder. “If you wanted to be close to me, Pep, all you had to do was ask,” he murmurs and she shivers, then raps his hand with her knuckles.

“Focus,” she orders, deliberately ignoring the heat searing across her cheeks.

“Ouch! All right, all right,” he grumbles and brushes his nose into the curve of her jaw before he starts in on the dishes in earnest.

Pepper closes her eyes for a moment and basks in the feeling of him working around her, his biceps brushing her shoulders as he scrubs, his chest moving against her shoulder blades, the smooth line of the arc reactor in between. It's so nice to have these rare quiet moments with Tony when he's not running a thousand miles an hour, or on empty, when they can be together, just like this.

“Okay,” Tony says and his lips brush her ear, his voice vibrating through her. “Think this one's all set. What do you think?”

Pepper takes a shivering breath and drags her eyes away from Tony's soapy forearms to the plate he's holding up for her inspection. She nods and swallows, trying to work some moisture into a suddenly dry mouth. “That's...yes, Tony, that looks good.”

He sets the plate aside as she picks up the next one and they work their way through a quarter of the stack in silence, Tony washing and then turning each dish over to her for inspection and rinsing. Pepper's hyper-aware of Tony's every move, her skin tingling with every contact. She's not even sure Tony has noticed until he nuzzles at her neck. The plate she's rinsing slips out of her grip, thunking against the sink basin. “Love you, Pep,” he says into her skin, quiet. Kisses her neck again and her knees tremble. “Know I'm not great about saying so, but I do. 'm crazy about you. Totally certifiable, I mean it.”

“Tony,” she breathes and catches a hand around his neck; there's no way to articulate the swelling, tearing sensation in her chest, hearing those words from his mouth, more readily available than she's ever heard them. She starts to turn her head, but Tony's mouth slides open, his tongue fluttering over her throat, reverent, and she goes still. Her eyes shut, her fingers tightening around the rim of the sink. The water's getting cold. Tony's tongue glides over _that spot_ and, _“_ Oh _...god.”_

Well, they do have a dishwasher, don't they?

Tony licks a long, slow stripe up her neck, nosing at her hair, and a shiver zings down Pepper's spine. Then he shifts his hips, breath hot on her throat, and Pepper bites her lip, feeling the evidence of his rapidly growing interest between her thighs. “Pep,” he says, and his voice is deeper, rougher, “not sure we're gonna get through these. Not that I don't want to—okay, it's not my first choice, if I'm being honest—but I want to do what you want to do, I just, god, you—”

Slipping her hand between them, Pepper palms his growing bulge and smiles as he surges forward, groaning, and drops his head onto her shoulder.

“Yeah, nope, screw the dishes, can we say screw the dishes?” Tony pants. “Not literally, obviously, because I really want to be screwing _you,_ but you know what I mean. Please say yes, oh my god, I'll get you the fall Louboutins, all of them—”

“Was I not being clear enough? Yes. _G_ _od,_ yes, Tony. Stop trying to bribe me.”

The plate Tony'd been washing thunks into the basin for a second time and he yanks his dripping arms out, rips off a wad of paper towels, and quickly blots them dry. “You are absolutely _stunning_ when you get this turned on, you know that? Your face gets all flushed and I swear to god, I feel like I'm going to combust just _looking_ at you.” He tosses the paper towels aside and brushes his hands over her breasts, mouthing at the skin below her ear.

Pepper sucks in a breath as one hand continues down the front of her silk top, making her stomach shiver, down beyond the waistband of her skirt, and into her panties. That same breath escapes her a moment later when Tony laps at her throat, two fingers undulating over her labia. “We're going to do it right here,” he goes on in a low voice, “Right here, how's that sound to you? Up against the counter and you can just hold on... God, I can't believe you're this wet already, you weren't kidding.” He adds more pressure and his fingers slide inward easily. It's wonderful and so not enough.

“You know they say men doing chores is like porn for women,” she tells him, a little breathless, and then lets out a low, desperate moan when Tony grinds the base of his fingers against her clit and his erection into her ass. It makes her clench with want around his fingers.

“Seems to be working for you,” Tony breathes and she lets her head fall back onto his shoulder as he strokes deeper.

“God, Tony.”

She can feel the rise and fall of his chest change as he starts to breathe more heavily, face turned so that his nose curves under her jaw, his eyelashes brushing her cheek, his skin fiery on hers. Her hipbones dig into the countertop as he leans into her, hips rolling.

It's the worst kind of tease.

“I think,” she says, reaching to ease Tony's hand free of her undergarments, “I want you to be the one holding on.”

Even through all their layers of clothing, Pepper can feel Tony twitch.

He swallows, throat working against her shoulder, and she smiles as he says with rasping curiosity, “Oh, really?”

“Really,” she replies and unzips her skirt with one deft movement. Sometimes she likes to be the one to take control, to see how thoroughly she can make Tony lose his mind.

Tony makes a small, strangled noise and leans back from her to watch her skirt slide from her hips to the floor and she knows she's off to a good start. He starts to reach for her waist and Pepper catches his hands. She presses her palms down over his knuckles until he curls his fingers around the rim of the sink, breathing suddenly that much more audible. He knows what she wants.

Pepper glances back over her shoulder, shooting him a sly smile and Tony's eyes flick up to hers, black and feverish. He lunges forward, grinding his hips into her and catching her mouth with his. It's wet and awkward, but neither of them can breathe when she finally breaks away.

“Hands on the sink,” she orders breathlessly and Tony swallows hard, jerking against her in a way that instantly makes her surge with wetness. “They stay until my say so.”

“Love it when you get bossy,” he pants and then, desperately, “Pepper, come _on,_ you're killing me—”

Pepper's through waiting, too, and she reaches for his fly, relishing the way Tony's breath catches around a whine as she pulls it down. As soon as his fly is open, she grasps his boxers through his slacks on either side and tugs them both down around his thighs, her hips tilting of their own volition when Tony's naked flesh springs out to greet her and hits the thin barrier of her panties.

“Oh my god, _Pepper_ ,” Tony groans and his arms twitch as he fights the urge to yank them away from the countertop, hands white-knuckled. She wriggles, just because she can and is justly rewarded with a low, shaky moan. “Tease. Awful, horrible, tease. I take back everything nice I ever said about you. Why do I even—”

Pepper hooks her thumbs into her panties and pulls them down, Tony's rant breaking off into strangled incoherency when she grasps him firmly in one hand and guides him right where he needs to be. Pepper bows forward, a shudder rippling through her as Tony spreads her open, filling her. Tony breathes a sound of pure satisfaction into her shoulder and she sets her hands over his on the counter, pinning them in place as he finally fits himself against her back.

She takes advantage of the fact that Tony always waits for her to give him the go-ahead and rocks toward the sink, earning a sharp, startled gasp for her effort, moving until it's just the tip of him inside her. Then she takes him back in in one long, hard thrust.

“Oh, god—” Tony breathes in a wobbling voice, “God, yes, I— Unh, _shit,_ where did you even— _ah!_ ”

Pepper sets a punishing pace, her cheeks burning with heat, sweat collecting along her hairline and at the back of her neck. It's all Tony can do to hang on and keep her from sending them both sprawling to the floor, moaning his approval.

It's not long before he's shuddering, groaning with strain, “Pep, Pep, god, I can't— I'm gonna—”

“Touch me,” Pepper pants and Tony hunches forward, his whole body shaking as he pulls one hand from the counter and rubs the pad of his thumb over her clit. He presses his nose into her neck, tongue stroking the spot that hits her right between her legs and she cries out, crumpling forward as her shaky knees give, her walls pulsing around Tony. He makes a high, tight sound, hips thrusting erratically a few times before the tension drains out of him, his weight settling heavy on her back, chest heaving with each breath.

Pepper's left arm is nearly to the elbow in cold dishwater, the other pressed into the hard tile of the counter and she can barely breathe between the exertion and Tony's weight. “Tony,” she wheezes, batting at his hand.

“Shit,” Tony pants and pulls away from her with a groan, shaky knees depositing him on the kitchen floor. Pepper tugs her panties back into place and then follows him down, holding on to the counter so she doesn't wind up on her face. Tony's starting to giggle to himself, slumped against the cabinets, and still hanging out of his pants. Pepper kicks free of her skirt and smiles at him, kisses the corner of his mouth. He doesn't seem fazed by his state of dress, so she chooses not to be either, and curls up against his side, enjoying the way his arm immediately comes up around her. She loves the way he looks post-sex, all wild hair and high color in his cheeks, happy and ten years younger. “Shit, Pep,” he finally says, when he stops laughing. “That was...”

She smiles and stretches languidly. “I don't believe it. Tony Stark, at a loss for words?”

“We should do the dishes more often,” is what Tony settles on and she laughs, low, into his chest.

“I think that can be arranged.”


End file.
